


Hand In Mine, Into Your Ice Blues

by Boossuet



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Blood and Injury, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hair Dyeing, Happy Ending, I don't know Canada so this takes place in the US, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Linear Narrative, Pittsburgh Penguins, Road Trips, This Is So Incredibly Self Indulgent, Winnipeg Jets, cop killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boossuet/pseuds/Boossuet
Summary: Brandon had been waiting for months to tell Adam how he feels. Then Adam shows up at his apartment covered in blood and suddenly they’re both wanted criminals. How is Brandon supposed to tell Adam how much he means to him now?aka an incredibly self-indulgent, criminals on the run AU
Relationships: Adam Lowry/Brandon Tanev
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Hand In Mine, Into Your Ice Blues

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a criminal AU so now you all have to suffer through it with me.
> 
> The title comes from Demolition Lovers by My Chemical Romance

**Day 65**

They were coming back from their terrible trek across the desert when they stumbled upon it.

It was nestled deep in the backwoods of West Virginia. Or was it Maryland? The two states were so close and so similar that Brandon had never bothered to learn the difference. It didn’t matter now because there were warrants out for him and Adam in both states anyways. 

However, this abandoned home that had, god bless it, landed across their path was just far enough away from civilization that they wouldn’t have to worry about cops and stolen cars and running, running, running anymore.

Brandon turned to Adam and smiled as he shifted the car into park. 

  
  


**Day 0**

“Got a hot date or something?” Zach asked, leaning over to watch Brandon rush to shove everything back into his bag. 

Brandon tried to keep his cheeks from turning bright red.  _ Or something was right.  _ “Nah, I’m just… expecting a package.” It was a terrible excuse but thankfully Brandon was out of the locker room before ZAR could question why he was that excited for a package. He was sure he’d hear the end of it at practice tomorrow. 

Sure, he could have just told Zach that he was going to see his old teammates. There was no shame in that. However the fact that he was going to see  _ Adam  _ made it feel special, like he should keep it his little secret. 

When Brandon arrived back at his apartment, Adam was waiting for him. 

“Brandon, what took so long? I’ve been waiting for  _ ages _ ,” he whined dramatically. 

Brandon fondly rolled his eyes. “I put you through so much, don’t I?”

“You really do. I don’t know why I’m still friends with you,” he teased, eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun. “Where are we going to get lunch at?”

“Can I at least take my stuff up?” Brandon asked, swiping the key card to get into his building. Adam wasn’t exactly making it easy for him to pretend like he wasn’t hopelessly, head over heels, feels like he’s gonna vomit every time he’s around him, in love with him. 

Especially when he was standing there looking all gorgeous and shit in the spring sunlight. Brandon was going to tell Adam he was in love with him today, he was! But not before a game. He’d invite Adam to come over after the game and tell him then. 

  
Adam got in the passenger seat of Brandon’s car and grinned at him.

It was going to be a long lunch. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 18**

Brandon watched Adam closely as he drove, repeatedly getting caught up in the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed or the gorgeous line of his jaw, highlighted by the setting sun. It was moments like these where Brandon could almost forget that they were currently wanted in five states. 

Being on the run had only made things harder for Brandon. The further they had run, the deeper in love he had fallen with Adam. 

He would kill for him if he had to.

But being on the run seemed like the wrong time to tell your longtime bro that you’d been head over heels for him for over a year now. Brandon sighed. One day he’d tell Adam how he felt. Just not today. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 39**

“We have to go to the desert,” Adam said, shaking Brandon awake at three AM. Brandon groaned and rolled over. “C’mon, Bran. We gotta go!” Adam said harshly as he began throwing things back into the backpack. You think he’d have learned by now to not unpack anything. 

They snuck out the back and got lucky enough that the late-night clerk at this shitty motel had left the keys in their car. Adam kept watch while Brandon switched the license plate, grateful this hotel didn’t have cameras. 

Brandon hopped in the passenger side and Adam pulled slowly out of the parking lot, gunning it as soon as they were a respectable distance away. “Why the desert?” Brandon asked once they'd hit the highway. 

“If we keep hopping around the same four states, we’re bound to get caught. So why don’t we throw them for a loop?” Adam grinned and he had that glint in his eyes, the one that Brandon couldn’t put into words, but always got his heart racing. 

Adam threw his head back and laughed as the streetlights flew by quicker, and Brandon hoped they could finally find rest in the desert. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 1**

Brandon had missed his chance to tell Adam he was in love with him when they were in Winnipeg. He’d then proceeded to spend the majority of his first season in Pittsburgh desperately trying to get over Adam. 

It hadn’t worked. 

Brandon had, however, used that time to work up the nerve to invite Adam over so he could finally tell him how he felt. It was the Pens last regular-season game against the Jets and both teams had the next day off, so what better time was there than now?

Adam had told Brandon he’d be right over after he had showered and changed, and though Adam sometimes took a long time showering, it was after midnight and he still wasn’t here. 

Brandon was just about to send him a ‘did you die?’ text when his buzzer went off. He smiled and pressed the button to let Adam into the building, bouncing with barely contained excitement and nerves. Adam’s knock sounded on the door and Brandon’s grin widened. 

“Adam, what- the  _ fuck _ .” Brandon’s original statement was cut off by the sight of Adam standing in the doorway, blood splattered across his face and covering his hands, a gun hanging limply in one of them, and a faraway look in his ice-blue eyes. Brandon’s body moved into action before his brain caught up and he yanked Adam into the apartment, checking that none of his neighbors had seen them before shutting the door. 

As adrenaline fully kicked in, Brandon’s brain began to register what was going on. “Go shower,” he said, harshly, prying the gun from Adam’s stiff fingers and shoving him towards the bathroom. Brandon tucked the gun into the back of his pants and began throwing clothes into bags while Adam showered. He’d watched enough crime shows to know they had to get away as quickly as possible. He dropped to his stomach and pulled out the wad of emergency cash he kept under his headboard. It’d be enough to get them out of the state at least.

But where were they going to go? Brandon had only been in Pittsburgh for a few months. He didn’t know jackshit about the surrounding areas. As his feet carried him to the kitchen his brain helpfully supplied him with  _ West Virginia.  _ That had been the general consensus of a rather odd locker room discussion a few weeks after Brandon had joined the team. He’d take Adam to West Virginia to keep him safe.

Brandon dumped all of his kitchen knives into a backpack and turned around to find Adam showered and dressed, but still in the same state of shock as he was before. He sighed and walked over to him, tilting his head up so that he could make eye contact with the taller man and resting a gentle hand on Adam’s cheek. 

He didn’t know what Adam had done. He didn’t need to know. He would stick with Adam until the end of this, no matter how it ended. “Come on,” Brandon said softly, pulling Adam towards the door.

A stolen license plate and a small panic attack later, they’d taken to the highway. Brandon was going twenty above the speed limit, which the logical side of him warned him, vehemently, would only draw more attention to them, but he couldn’t breathe easily until they were through a tunnel and far away from Pittsburgh. He glanced over at Adam, still silent and shaken, staring at his hands, before putting his foot down on the gas even more. He wouldn’t breathe easily until he knew Adam was alright. 

They were over fifty miles away, flying past a billboard for a place called ‘Gravity Hill’ when Adam finally spoke. “I put you through so much,” he said slowly, voice shaking. 

“Shush. Ride or die, remember?” Brandon reminded him, forcing a small smile. His smile became genuine when he noticed the corners of Adam’s mouth twitch upwards. Brandon could finally breathe again. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 12**

Brandon didn’t know fear could feel like this. It tore up his lungs, his vision disappeared in a white flash, and all he could think was  _ Adam.  _ He squeezed Adam’s hand tighter as they ran through the trees, amazed that they hadn’t crashed into one yet. The shouting and footsteps behind them began to fade into the distance as they crashed out of the woods and into a large cemetery. Adam let go of his hand and started sprinting up the hill, Brandon on his heels despite every muscle in his body screaming at him to stop. 

When they had cleared the hill, Adam dropped to his knees and rested his head on a tombstone, wheezing. Brandon checked that they’d lost the cops before sitting down beside him, leaning back on the same tombstone. 

It was tall and old, a joint grave for a husband and wife who had lived well into their eighties. Brandon was hyper-aware of how close he was to Adam. If he turned his head just a bit, they’d be close enough to kiss.  _ No, get that thought out of your head. You’re bros on the run from the law, nothing more.  _ Brandon sighed and closed his eyes. 

“Everything okay?” Adam asked. Brandon opened his eyes and saw that Adam was sitting beside him properly now. Their knees were almost touching. 

“Yeah. Just tired from running.” Brandon didn’t take his eyes off the ground, knowing if he looked up he’d find himself staring at Adam’s lips again. 

Adam laughed and ran his fingers through his now-blond hair. “C’mon,  _ Turbo _ , I thought speed was your specialty?” 

Brandon rolled his eyes fondly. “It isn’t at-,” he checked his watch, “six-thirty in the goddamn morning. What the fuck did you even do in Pittsburgh?”

Adam fell silent and serious, causing Brandon to immediately regret his words. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to-” But Adam is already on his feet, walking silently across the cemetery, his fingers running lightly over the tops of graves. Brandon got to his feet and followed behind him. 

He’d follow Adam to the ends of the earth.

  
  
  
  
  


**Day 43**

The diner they stopped at felt as heavy and dead as the desert surrounding it, causing Brandon’s stomach to knot. He tried to reassure himself that it was just hunger. They hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night after all, but that didn’t ease his mind. Adam didn’t seem uneasy, so he kept quiet, not wanting to worry Adam over nothing. 

Their meal went smoothly and Brandon was beginning to think that the bad feeling he had was just hunger when he noticed a man in the corner booth staring at Adam. The man was tall and muscular, with short hair and,  _ shit,  _ a badge on his chest. Brandon could see in his eyes that he knew who they were.  _ Fuck. _

“Don’t look behind you, but we have to go. Now.” Brandon whispered across the table, trying to act as normally as possible. “Go to the car. I’ll pay the bill.” 

Adam trusted him enough to not question him. As naturally as he could, he exited the restaurant and Brandon waited until he was safely in the driver’s seat before getting up to pay at the counter. 

He was putting his change back into his wallet when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Brandon turned just in time for a fist to connect with his nose, cracking it and causing blood to flow like a river down his face. Okay, so maybe this man didn’t know who they were. If he had, he would have known not to fucking punch Brandon. 

Brandon’s vision went red and he felt his fist connecting with the man’s jaw. It had been weeks since he’d fought and it felt so, so good. It felt familiar and normal, something Brandon hadn’t felt since that night Adam had cuddled him as they fell asleep. Brandon was snapped out of his reminiscing by a sharp elbow to the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. 

The man grabbed him by the shoulder and kicked him in the stomach with steel-toed boots, sending him to the floor. As Brandon gasped, trying to get air in his screaming lungs, the man kicked him swiftly in the face. Brandon felt his teeth shift and he clutched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut as pain blacked out his vision. 

When he opened his eyes, the man was already halfway out the door, dead set on Adam. By the time Brandon has scrambled to his feet, the man has his hand on the passenger side door handle. Whatever happened after that was a blur. All Brandon remembered was his hand on the knife he kept in his pants and then, Adam was dragging him into the car. Brandon’s hands were covered in blood and he was screaming at Adam to drive.

They were twenty miles away when everything that had happened started to set in. Brandon signaled for Adam to pull over and he stumbled out of the car, head spinning. It was there, as he was puking into the tumbleweeds outside of a nameless desert town that the full weight of what he had done hit him. 

He had killed for Adam. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 3**

On the third day, they successfully made it into West Virginia and found a shitty motel. They paid in cash and nobody questioned them. Brandon went out that afternoon and found a drugstore. He bought hair dye, bleach, gloves, a first aid kit, and granola bars, ignoring the cashier’s attempt at conversation. He could tell this town wasn’t used to strangers by the suspicious way everybody was eyeing him. Or maybe that was his paranoia. 

Bleaching Adam’s hair almost killed Brandon. Not because he was super in love with Adam’s natural hair color or from the fumes, although they did have to evacuate the bathroom halfway through due to the poor ventilation. No, what killed him was having to stand there, running his fingers through Adam’s hair as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, and pretend that he  _ wasn’t _ madly in love with him. Brandon gently massaged Adam’s scalp with one hand, reading the directions on the box with the other. As much as he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, he didn’t want to burn Adam’s hair off. Then he wouldn’t get the chance to run his fingers through it while Adam laid with his head in his lap, on their couch, watching- 

“I think you’ve got that spot covered,” Adam chuckled, snapping Brandon out of his sappy train of thought. 

“You leave it on for fifteen minutes,” Brandon said quickly, glad Adam couldn’t see the blush that spread across his cheeks. He threw the bleach box and his gloves in the trash before grabbing the box of dye he’d bought. He tried to read it but instead found himself distracted by the thought of Adam’s fingers running through his hair. Oh god, he was going to have to sit there for at least ten minutes and act like he  _ wasn’t  _ dying inside. He prepped the dye with shaky hands and passed it over to Adam, swapping seats with him. 

If the dye hadn’t been cold as fuck, Brandon would have told Adam he loved him the second his fingertips touched his scalp. 

After they were done with dye, and Brandon had gotten an appropriate amount of dumb blond jabs in at Adam which he had countered with an appropriate amount of soulless ginger taunts, they sorted out their sleeping shifts. Were they safe enough to both sleep here? Probably. Was Brandon going to pass up an opportunity to watch Adam sleep? Hell no, as creepy as that sounded. Sleep was the only time Adam looked at peace these days. Although he was starting to act more like himself, there was still a haunted look in his eyes that Brandon feared they may never outrun. 

  
  


**Day 70**

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Adam said as they parked their car up the road from the smalltown liquor store they’d come to rob. 

“We’ve done this successfully so many times before. We’ll be fine,” Brandon reassured him, not looking up from checking that his pistol was fully loaded. 

Adam looked like he was going to argue, but instead, he sighed and stepped out of the car. Brandon followed suit, enjoying the view as he followed behind Adam. Things had been going so well since Brandon had  _ finally  _ told Adam he loved him and they’d found that abandoned cabin. They spent their days fixing floorboards and their nights cuddled in each other's arms, sleeping better than they ever had before. 

They paused outside the store and Adam winked at Brandon, pulling up his mask before pulling his gun and kicking open the door, shouting at the clerk. No matter how many times they did this, Brandon would never stop being in awe of how hot Adam looked while doing it. He smiled to himself as Adam pressed his gun to the poor clerk’s head, screaming at him as he emptied the cash register into the backpack Brandon had slid over. As soon as he’d finished, Adam slammed the gun into the clerk’s head, sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap, blood pooling from his head. Adam laughed, a little unhinged, but music to Brandon’s ears. 

It was hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, Adam had gone into shock for hours when he’d killed somebody. Now he was on top of the world and Brandon was right there with him. Adam set his gun on the counter to pick up the backpack, turning to Brandon and pulling his mask down to grin widely at him.

Neither of them noticed the woman emerging from the beer cooler beside Brandon until it was too late. Everything moved in slow motion. Adam’s eyes going wide and his face paling. Brandon’s left ear ringing. Adam hitting the floor. Oh god, was that  _ his  _ blood? The woman didn’t get the chance to move before Brandon put a bullet right between her eyes, sinking two more in her chest. 

Brandon dropped his gun and knelt beside Adam, trying to ignore how much blood was on the ground around him, focusing instead on using his mask to apply pressure to Adam’s side. He had to get Adam out to the car. This wasn’t where their story was going to end. Not in a shitty liquor store miles from the closest town. If they were going out like this, it would be in a blaze of glory that burned almost as strong as their love. 

Brandon successfully got Adam to his feet and to the closest car. Brandon sent a small, thankful prayer up to whatever God had made that bitch leave the keys in her unlocked, rusty pickup truck. He was struggling to reach around Adam to open the car door when Adam opened his eyes. “I can stand on my own,” he said softly, “get the door.” 

He was still white as a sheet and his blue eyes were miles away, but hearing his voice was enough to pull Brandon out of the panic that had grabbed hold of his bones. As soon as he opened the door, Adam collapsed into the front seat, resting his forehead on the dashboard and groaning. 

“Keep pressure on the wound,” Brandon reminded him, slamming the door shut, snatching the backpack up from where he’d dropped it in the dust, and leaping into the driver's seat. He could hear a police siren in the distance as they squealed away. If he ever set foot in Pennsylvania again, it would only be over his dead body, Brandon thought as he listened helplessly to Adam’s pained, shallow breaths. 

He started talking to Adam, trying to keep him awake. He felt in the pit of his stomach that if Adam passed out, he would never wake up again. Brandon kept one hand on Adam’s thigh, rubbing it as he chattered away. 

They’d made it halfway back to their cabin when Adam spoke again. Brandon almost missed it, a low whisper, almost a plea, a hiss through clenched teeth. “The bullet is still in there…” 

_ Fuck.  _

Brandon pulled over and leaned across the seat, carefully lifting Adam’s shirt to look at it. The bullet was wedged so deep in Adam’s flesh that Brandon could barely see it, but it was there. The sight of it was enough to make Brandon cry, but he bit down on the urge and managed not to. He forced himself to take a deep breath and go through with this. He couldn’t choke now, not when Adam needed him most.

Looked like he was about to learn how to extract a bullet. 

  
  
  
  


**Day 58**

They’re sitting in a shaded corner of a small, old graveyard in Maryland when Brandon finally told him how he felt.

Everything that had happened in the past week and a half since they had gunned it out of the desert and back into the Appalachian mountains had given him the courage to do it. Adam holding his hair out of his face as he puked on the side of the road to Adam kissing his knuckles while bandaging them to Adam holding him tightly whenever they managed to sleep, all led Brandon to believe that perhaps his feelings weren’t one-sided after all. 

Brandon looked up from the flower he was twirling in his fingers to Adam, leaning against a mausoleum. He looked gorgeous in the hot midday heat, his natural roots growing back in through the blond, his facial hair growing back, and his body lean from running nonstop for nearly sixty days. 

Adam narrowed his eyes, giving Brandon a confused look. “Something on your mind, Bran?”

_ Well. Now or never, right?  _ They could be dead tomorrow for all Brandon knew. They were lucky to have made it this long. “Yeah. I love you,” he responded, looking up at Adam with a coy smile.

“Uh, yeah. I know,” Adam said, laughing when Brandon’s smile turned to offense. “You aren’t exactly subtle.”

“So you just let me keep embarrassing myself in front of you? You dick! You absolute ass-”

“I love you too,” Adam cut him off with a smirk. Brandon sputtered, wordless and angry and  _ oh my god Adam felt the same oh my fucking god.  _

Brandon’s fingers buried themselves in Adam’s hair and their lips were about to touch when a dog barked from the trees surrounding them.

Why couldn’t the universe let Brandon have one nice thing? 

They took off for cover, running in the opposite direction of the bark. It could have been from one of the houses nearby, but that wasn’t a chance they could afford to take. A kiss could wait. Their lives were much more important. As they sprinted through the trees, Brandon silently pleaded for safety and rest.

He would kill a thousand more if it meant he could finally, truly rest in Adam’s arms.

  
  
  
  


**Rest**

When Adam woke up, Brandon’s side of the bed was already empty, but that wasn’t unusual. Brandon had always been an early riser. Adam stretched, wincing at the pain in his side. It’d been almost a year and that goddamn bullet wound was still giving him trouble sometimes. He doubted it would ever stop giving him trouble. At least he had a hell of a scar from it. 

He pulled on his underwear and headed down their narrow stairwell, stomach growling when the smell of breakfast hit his nostrils. Adam found a plate of pancakes and a hot cup of tea waiting for him, but still no sign of his husband. He frowned until the faint sound of singing drifted in from outside.

When he got out onto the front porch, he found Brandon planting flowers in the garden beds they had built together over the winter. “Where did you find those flowers?” Adam asked, leaning over the porch rail and taking a sip from his tea.

Brandon startled, not noticing that Adam had woken up. “Oh, these were behind the beehives and before the blackberry bush,” he replied, waving vaguely in that direction. He looked up when Adam chuckled. “What?” He had dirt on his nose and a fond look of annoyance on his face. Adam thought he had never looked cuter. 

“Don’t I get a good morning kiss?” Adam teased, leaning further over their porch railing. 

“I made you pancakes and tea and now you want a good morning kiss? You’re so greedy.”

“I know. I put you through so much,” Adam chuckled, glad when Brandon leaned up on his tiptoes to kiss him. 

Ever since Adam had recovered from getting shot, they had worked hard to build themselves this safe, domestic haven. They were just like every other happily married couple, except every few months, when money was scarce, they would go out and rob a store, maybe kill whoever stood in their way. 

And Brandon was always ten times hotter when he was covered in blood. Adam remembered how he’d proposed in that jewelry store after Brandon had shot the owner. He’d gotten lucky that the ring he had grabbed at random fit and even luckier that he could taste blood on Brandon’s lips when they had kissed afterward. 

What could he say? Old habits die hard! 


End file.
